The Outcast
by Weapon of Choice
Summary: This one is a Legolas LotR prequel (way long before, we're talking he's young). And no i don't own any of the characters except Anarkyn. It's PG-13 for violence (I tend to beat up Legolas a little). (final chap. up)
1. The Dark One

"There were only two, Thranduil. Where is the third?"  
  
A gravelly voice broke the stillness as its owner, a shadowy figure cloaked in black from head to toe, stepped out of the darkness near the doorway. Thranduil spun to face the noiseless intruder in the pavilion.  
  
"It is you, Avergaar." Thranduil said, relaxing some, "You have found the rebels then."  
  
"Yes, they were being held by your guards, but there were only two. There is another."  
  
The figure shook off the hood of the cloak revealing the small, angular face of a female elf, though not quite an elf. When looked at closely the face was harder than a normal elf and the teeth a little too sharp. A thin, white scar traced its way over the top of her cheek, past the corner of her eye and off into her hairline, marring what would normally have been considered a pretty face. A finely made silver chain attached from her ear to her nose on one side, completing the unconventional look.  
  
She gave the king of the Mirkwood elves a rather insolent glare.  
  
"You let the other escape through your lands. I am required to answer for three to Elrond. You were to be holding three."  
  
The female elf shifted her weight forward. There was subtle menace in the movement. Thranduil straightened and gave an imperious look.  
  
"I have nothing to do with you bringing them to Elrond," he suddenly softened, "I do admit the on escaped our scouts. That was not our intention, therefore I do feel some responsibility on that account."  
  
Thranduil sighed, "I cannot send my archers with you, that is impossible, but I do have someone in mind to accompany you. You shall not refuse this Avergaar, this fugitive has proved to be crafty and have allies. You may need help…"  
  
Suddenly they were interrupted by the rapid entrance of another elf. In that instant the she-elf flung back her cloak, spun and pointed a wicked looking blade at the throat of the intruder. She gave a grimacing, slightly amused smile as she realized the new addition also had a knife drawn and pointed at her throat in the same manner.  
  
"Father?" the new elf gasped out.  
  
"Release him Avergaar and stand back," Thranduil commanded, "it is my oldest son that you threaten, and he demands your respect."  
  
"Does he?" the female said in a low voice. She raised an eyebrow, but backed away and resheathed her knife.  
  
"I heard you, Father, and I thought you may need my help."  
  
The new elf glanced from father to the female elf.  
  
"No, she meant me no harm, but it is good you came. Avergaar, this is who I can spare to go with you…my oldest son, Legolas."  
  
"You cannot send him with me… he is far too young," the female gave a look of disdain, "I will be fine alone."  
  
"No, he goes at my insistence, and that is final" Thranduil said firmly, " I will explain all of this to you later my son."  
  
With that the king of Mirkwood turned and left.  
  
In this moment prince and hunter stood sizing each other up. The she- elf had pulled back her cloak, revealing an old leather breastplate with a guard down the one shoulder. Under this was chain mail, and various straps crossed and recrossed her ensemble down to her dull leather pants. The most startling aspect of her attire was her weaponry though. She wore a broadsword on one hip and a short sword on the other. A bow and quiver showed itself from the back of the cloak along with the double elfish white knives of the warrior class. Added to these were other small knives sheathed in the various straps around her torso, and heavy leather wrist gauntlets that seemed to be plated with small steel spikes. She posed and altogether intimidation image, even though she had little in the way of actual size or height. Her dark brown hair twisted into a mass at the back of her neck, carelessly done yet attractive nonetheless. With flashing blue- gray eyes and a delicate face, the female looked a complete contradiction.  
  
The prince on the other hand looked his role. Tall, well-built, with a delicate yet masculine face and long blond hair that verged on being white, it could fairly be argued that he was almost peerless in appearance. Dressed well and richly in the woodland colors, there was still a softness to his features that betrayed a hint of a sensitive nature, yet a hardness to his eyes that showed him to be no coward.  
  
A strange pair they made, slowly taking in the other's appearance and judging accordingly.  
  
The she-elf made a noise suspiciously like a growl. She glared at the elvin prince and her gaze was returned by one that conceivably held nothing but curiosity. Then with one quick motion she was gone, vanished back into the shadows from which she had appeared. Legolas watched the spot she had disappeared from for a moment, as if debating what to think about what he had just seen. Finally he turned and left to find his father. 


	2. A Brief Explanation

"She is an Avergaar. A cursed one. Her family rebelled long ago and Sauron captured her and her family. They were tortured by the Dark Lord and almost turned to orcs, but she and two of her kindred escaped. They returned to Lord Elrond who felt pity for them, but had to proclaim them outcasts, for they had been of the family that rebelled and they had been in the power of the Dark Lord. The three became servants of Elrond, called the Avergaar, the king of Rivendell's personal warriors. Two have been killed since then, but the last, Anarkyn, still remains. She will never be free until Sauron is completely destroyed. He ruined her and she is still partially claimed by him. She will be brought back to the Mirkwood elves if Sauron ever regains all of his old power, and she will be destroyed by the heir to the throne…"  
  
Legolas broke into his father's narrative at this point, astonished.  
  
"But I am the heir! I would have to kill her. Why does she have to die?"  
  
"She must be destroyed for if she is not she will become Sauron's slave. A killer for him. She herself decided this fate. She would not let herself serve Sauron ever."  
  
Thranduil paused and sighed, "It is our duty because she was originally a Mirkwood elf."  
  
Legolas slowly leaned back in the seat he had been perched on in amazement and slight horror. He felt very ill at ease with the thought he possibly would have to kill the small outcast.  
  
"I could sense no evil about her. Just…pain. And loneliness. I think she feels very alone," Legolas paused, "I would in her position" he finished in a lower tone.  
  
"She is here by the will of Elrond," Thranduil continued," Three elves have been found to be in league with dark powers. They escaped to our lands and the Avergaar had been sent to bring them back, only one escaped us, and this fugitive has proved very difficult to capture. I believe even the Avergaar needs help to subdue him, for he seems to have allies. Since I could not send out a battalion of archers and can only part with one warrior right now, I felt I should at least make sure that they were of some importance. I think that includes you Legolas," he finished with a smile.  
  
Thranduil eyed his son," Therefore I chose you to accompany her. She will be far from the most pleasant of traveling companions, but she can take care of herself and will tolerate you I think. Do you except my proposition?"  
  
Legolas felt a small thrill of adventure shoot through him. He had been more than well trained in the elvish skills of fighting, but he had never really been given a chance to test his mettle. This seemed like a perfect opportunity. He felt he could deal with the Avergaar as long as he knew it was only for a short time. A slow, wry smile touched his mouth and a barely suppressed gleam of excitement came to his eyes.  
  
"Yes Father, I see the wisdom in you choice. I will go with the Avergaar." 


	3. Anarkyn

Anarkyn sighed.  
  
This was all getting too complicated and tedious for her. Being alone in life had forced her to make snap decisions for herself and act upon them, but Thranduil's meddling had not only gained her an unwanted traveling companion, it had required her to stay in Mirkwood another day. Another day that the fugitive had to distance himself from her and another day she had free to replay painful memories of a former life. Memories of a time when people didn't avert their eyes when she passed, when they didn't fear her. A time when she had actually been considered pretty. A time when she had been free.  
  
Anarkyn threw her weight against a tree and examined one of her knives.  
  
And now she had a prince to look after. A prince she remembered when was born. A prince whose youthful skill and unconventional looks she had heard tell about in her travels. A prince who was destined to kill her if the need arose.  
  
Being killed was better than being a slave to Sauron though.  
  
Anarkyn shuddered.  
  
She had never experienced pain like that before, and she hoped she would be long dead before she would ever have to feel anything like that again. Never again, she had vowed, never again. She would gratefully let Legolas kill her before that could happen. But she had survived the episode and she had escaped. The others had begged to be killed; had prayed to die. She had prayed only for strength. And a miracle. And that she had received. Freedom, yet not. But almost. Still the threat of Sauron hung over her, and she knew it. She never forgot it. She couldn't.  
  
Anarkyn pushed herself away from the tree, resheathed her knife and moved deeper into the darkness of the forest. She always felt safer there. Where people couldn't stare. And judge. They had no right to judge her. She had never rebelled, her family had. She had no part in their decision and then no choice but to join them in exile.  
  
But that was all past. She lived in the moment now. She had to. And she had become extremely good at it. Before her banishment she had always been a fair hand at fighting, but now, with time and necessity, she had become lethal. She had become an unmatched warrioress and tracker. With fighting had come scars and exhaustion, but Anarkyn embraced both and strove to preserve her intimidating image, adding a nose chain and an arsenal of weapons to the ensemble. She may not be that pleasing to the eye, but at least she was left alone, and if not respected at least feared. It was the only option she felt she had anymore.  
  
The sun began breaking through the trees and Anarkyn began to move back towards the living quarters. It was long past time to be leaving in her opinion and she wasn't wasting another moment. She had already been thinking too much and that was never pleasant for her. She needed to stop, and that meant doing what she always did. Running away from the memories. 


	4. a song

Legolas eyed the Avergaar as she bent down and lightly touched a spot on the ground. They had been tracking for two days now and gaining rapidly on their quarry. Barely a word had been spoken between the companions and the stiff silence was starting to weigh on Legolas. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak to the Avergaar; it was just that he didn't know what to say. This Anarkyn didn't seem like one who engaged in mush casual conversation. Or any conversation for that matter. Yet for some reason he wanted her to trust him. Legolas didn't know why, but for some reason he simply wanted to ease her pain. But he didn't even know if that were possible.  
  
Legolas sighed.  
  
Maybe he felt he could sympathize with Anarkyn because he had always felt different. He was never treated in the same manner as a normal Sindarin elf. He was either singled out because he was royalty, or more often then not, because he did not have the dark hair and eyes of a wood elf. He too was an anomaly and he had only escaped ridicule by demanding respect because of his royal station.  
  
"He's been this way." Anarkyn said as she straightened up and turned back to Legolas, breaking him from his reverie.  
  
"We stop here for now. I cannot track in darkness however good my eyesight may be."  
  
Legolas had no argument and slowly lowered himself down on the ground next to a large tree. The last night had passed, at least for him, in extremely uncomfortable silence. He had resigned himself to spending this one in a similar manner. His father had been right, the Avergaar made a very unpleasant travel partner. He closed his eyes for a moment and softly began to hum one of the lighter ballads he knew. It was better than the complete, icy silence that had been held for so long. As he slowly opened his eyes he was thoroughly surprised to find Anarkyn watching him intently. She glanced away quickly at his gaze.  
  
"I used to be able to sing that," she said almost inaudibly, "It was my favorite."  
  
Legolas's eyes widened a little. This was the first statement of anything close to conversation that the Avergaar had volunteered. Not to lose the opportunity he pursued the subject.  
  
"I can sing the words if you would like," he offered.  
  
Legolas took Anarkyn's silence for approval and softly began to sing the words. The song was a story of two lovers doomed to be apart when the one was killed in battle, but because of the purity of their love, an Elvin king was able to restore the slain one to life and the lovers were reunited. Legolas couldn't imagine the Avergaar ever singing anything, much less something that ended so happily. When he had finished he looked over at Anarkyn. She stared off into the darkness with something akin to a slight smile on her lips.  
  
"I should have tried that sooner," Legolas thought to himself with a small good natured smile," That worked like nothing else so far."  
  
He watched the Avergaar. She slowly looked back over to him. There was no expression on her face, but he could sense something different. Some of the pervasive pain he always felt around her had lessened. She still didn't trust Legolas, or even really like him for that matter, that was obvious, but now it seemed she might be capable of those things even if she didn't act on them yet.  
  
She could be reached and that counted for something. 


	5. An Unexpected Meeting

Anarkyn caught herself pondering the elf prince once more. His actions toward her were puzzling in her mind. She was used to being feared or ignored or ordered as a servant, but what she was not used to was being treated the way Legolas was treating her. He was respectful, undemanding, and, if she didn't know better, was trying to draw her out of the steely shell she had put up between herself and everyone who had ever gotten too close. This elf prince, this Legolas, seemed to look at her as an equal. Anarkyn could never sense any disdain in him towards her, only understanding of some kind. And this, for the first time in a long time, had the Avergaar confused. She, for her part, couldn't actually bring herself to dislike him. Strangely, she felt almost at ease with Legolas, and that startled her.  
  
There was also something puzzling in the elf they were following, something elusive, but it still bothered her. Something was not right, she could sense it, but Anarkyn couldn't place it exactly.  
  
Suddenly an unfamiliar noise ensued and Anarkyn spun and drew both swords. Legolas, who had been a short distance behind her, already had an arrow loaded on his bow by the time she had turned to where he was.  
  
At that moment, five orcs broke through the clearing in to the trees where Legolas and Anarkyn stood. The orcs looked extremely surprised, and seemed confused as to whether to attack the two elves or leave, but apparently feeling comfortable that the two were outnumbered chose the latter option.  
  
Before they had halfway covered the distance between themselves and the elves, Legolas had already leveled two of them. The other three changed their course of attack and converged on the Avergaar. Anarkyn slammed her shoulder into the first one, and then while it was off balance, plunged into it with her short sword. She braced her hand against the orc and shoved it backwards to disengage her sword, then flipped her sword around in her hand and stabbed backwards into the orc approaching behind her. For the last assailant, Anarkyn released her hold on her sword and with one quick motion drew a knife and threw it. The weapon lodged into the creature's throat at the same time it was hit in the side by an arrow from Legolas.  
  
The corner of Anarkyn's mouth quirked up in a small, wry smile. She quietly went and retrieved her sword, and glanced over at Legolas in the twilight. He gave her a respectful, impressed nod. She smiled back at him slightly, a rather impressed look on her face regarding him as well. He was a good fighter, better than she had thought he would be. He didn't impede her fighting style at all; he didn't try to rescue her, he didn't try to help her even really, he simply let her do what she knew how to do and tended to his own affairs.  
  
Legolas began removing his arrows and Anarkyn's knife from the dead orcs. He tossed her knife over to her.  
  
"What were they doing here?" he said more to himself than to her.  
  
"I do not know, but I don't like it," Anarkyn said as she resheathed her knife, "Something is very wrong." 


	6. Laughter

The evening slid into total darkness and the two companions were forced to stop once again. But this time both felt very ill at ease. The events of the day had worried and confused both of them and they remained of a high sense of alert.  
  
Legolas eyed Anarkyn through the dimness with respect as he watched her crouched down sharpening one of her knives. He had seen female elf warriors fight before, but nothing like what he'd seen Anarkyn do. It was a calculated, fearless, almost brutal way of fighting she employed. It didn't scare him though, if anything he admired it. Legolas had never been much for extreme daintiness in a female, and this female was the farthest thing from that. Anarkyn, for her part, had relaxed considerably towards him since the fight.  
  
"In fact," Legolas thought to himself with a slight smile, "she's being almost friendly by her standards."  
  
Anarkyn stood up and moved over next to him. Legolas felt her eyes on him in the darkness, as if she was trying to think of something to say. He returned the look and received a small, almost playful smile back.  
  
"You fight well for a young one."  
  
She was teasing him. He could hear it in her voice. It surprised him greatly, but he enjoyed it.  
  
"Not as well as you, my lady," he countered back with a slight bow.  
  
In the darkness Legolas heard something he had never imagined hearing in his life. The Avergaar laughed. It sounded like something she hadn't done in a while, but the laugh still had a pretty, bell-like quality to it.  
  
"No one has ever called me a lady and you needn't start now," Anarkyn said as she leaned back against a tree, then changed the subject," Why do you think those orcs were out this far?"  
  
"They got lost from something, but what that was is beyond my knowledge." Legolas answered.  
  
"That is what worries me." Anarkyn said, and then lapsed into a silence that Legolas knew would last the night.  
  
Legolas felt a warm glow inside. He had made her laugh, and that made him unreasonably happy. He didn't even know why. He slid back into thought about what had passed as he waited for the rising of the sun. 


	7. The Ambush

As they continued tracking, Anarkyn shot a sidelong glance at Legolas. The thought that he was extremely handsome in an unconventional way sprang into her mind. She immediately shook that disturbing idea off. She couldn't let herself become too attached to anyone, especially a prince. And she certainly couldn't love anyone.  
  
Love? Where had that thought come from. Anarkyn shook her head, even more confused. She had hardly known this elf for five days and she already felt a greater connection to him than she had ever felt to anyone ever before. Love? She couldn't even consider that thought.  
  
"And even if I did," she thought, " Look at me. Who could possibly care about an abused outcast like me?"  
  
Anarkyn's head suddenly snapped up and she swung her bow around and notched an arrow. Legolas was standing poised beside her. In the undergrowth lay something. Anarkyn carefully moved forward and was suddenly face to face with her fugitive. Only her fugitive was dead.  
  
"TRAP!" was all she had time to say before what seemed like a legion of orcs was upon them.  
  
Several were quickly leveled by the rapid fire of arrows the two elves put out, every one hitting its mark, but soon the orcs were too close for anything but hand to hand combat.  
  
Anarkyn drew her white knives and slammed them into the first orc. As she pulled out she spun, slashing two more, then flipped the blades over in her hands to stab two more orcs approaching behind her. Legolas's knives were out too, making short work of anything getting close enough to him. The orcs were not skilled fighter, but their sheer number made them extremely dangerous.  
  
Anarkyn parried with a large orc, then ducked as he swung a huge blow at her head with his sword. The strike missed Anarkyn, but decapitated the orc behind her and allowed her to stab the assailant with a knife in the same motion. While she was turning, a blow from an arrow grazed above her eye. As she dispatched the owner of the implement with a well-thrown knife, blood started to obscure her vision.  
  
She spun around just in time to see Legolas hacking his way through a mass of orcs. His clear, handsome face was concentrating on the three orcs in front of him. He never saw the other one, a little distance off, release an arrow. The arrow slammed into Legolas's shoulder, pinning him to a tree he had been fighting in front of at the time. The archer orc was dead by a shot from Anarkyn before he got a chance to see his success.  
  
Legolas kicked the orc in front of him, sending a rocket of pain shooting through his speared shoulder. Then he flung all of his weight forward to pull the arrow from the tree. Two arrows missed his head on either side by mere inches. He turned to see them now protruding from the head of an orc on one side and the neck of another orc on the other side. Anarkyn stood several yards away already with another arrow loaded for a follow up shot. Another orc rushed Legolas, but with his good arm he stabbed the creature at the same time two arrows from Anarkyn struck the orc's back. The few orcs left fled immediately, leaving the two elves wounded and gasping for air.  
  
Anarkyn moved over to Legolas and began to survey the arrow still in his shoulder. It had gone the whole way through and the entire arrowhead could be seen out the back.  
  
"We need to move away from here. Now." Anarkyn commanded. She couldn't tend to him or herself here. It was far too dangerous. Legolas's eyes had taken a slightly glazed look, but he nodded stoically and replaced his knives on his back.  
  
"Wait," Anarkyn said. She quickly broke off the shaft of the arrow. She couldn't have Legolas wandering through the forest with an entire arrow sticking out of him.  
  
With that she wiped the blood out of her eye and began to move to a safer location. 


	8. Revelation

Pain seared through Legolas's mind. He had never been injured in any way before, and this felt like nothing he had ever experienced. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep himself moving forward. He knew he was losing some blood now, and when the arrow was removed he would more than likely really start to bleed. Anarkyn herself didn't look any better for the wear. Her one whole eye was beginning to swell and Legolas could tell she was having some trouble seeing out of it.  
  
"So much for invincible warriors," he thought sarcastically," What a pair we make."  
  
Anarkyn stopped suddenly and began searching for something. Legolas slowly slid down against a tree and pulled back the neck of his tunic, exposing the wound. Anarkyn reappeared with some kind of plant and began to examine the arrow wound.  
  
"You're lucky," she said after a moment," you won't die from it anyway."  
  
"A pleasant thought," Legolas said through gritted teeth, " Any way you can fix it here? It is a bit uncomfortable."  
  
"This not going to be pleasant," she informed as she reached around to his back, grabbed the arrowhead and pulled hard. Legolas barely flinched from the pain and regarded Anarkyn steadily, but he looked a shade paler, not to mention the bleeding started.  
  
"You were right about that," he said with a weak smile," Not something I would enjoy doing again."  
  
"If you continue to gain anymore skill at fighting you won't have to," Anarkyn returned with a light smile," I have to say you are better than I was at that age."  
  
She flung the arrowhead and what was left of the shaft to the ground. Anarkyn then proceeded to put some of the plant into her mouth and chew it. She spit it out and began to apply it to either side of the entry point of the arrow. Legolas immediately felt a coolness that relieved some of the pain. Anarkyn tore the inner lining of her cloak and wrapped it around the plaster. Legolas watched her, slightly fascinated. He knew some elvish medicine, but none that was capable of being done simply with some chewed leaves. Anarkyn's face was merely inches from his as she worked on the makeshift bandage, but she didn't seem to notice. When she finally looked up, an overwhelming force overtook Legolas and he leaned forward until his lips momentarily brushed hers. He jerked back immediately in surprise. The emotion that had just washed over him felt almost beyond his control.  
  
For a moment, the amusing thought that the Avergaar might just pull a knife on him for his youthful impulse crossed his mind. She did look extremely surprised to put that term lightly, but then a charming, wry smile came to her lips.  
  
"I take it you did not mean to do that?" she asked.  
  
"Not in that manner, most assuredly," he answered, still in mild shock at himself.  
  
Anarkyn let out a short laugh and studied him with a slight smile.  
  
"You certainly chose an odd time," she seemed to derive some enjoyment out of his confusion," though I believe the pain has addled your senses."  
  
"I do not think so," Legolas said quietly, as if something was slowly becoming clear to him.  
  
Anarkyn ignored him and kept talking, "You will be fine later. Completely back to normal."  
  
"I wonder," he said, giving her a disturbingly serious and poignant look.  
  
Anarkyn turned away, extremely uncomfortable.  
  
"No!" something inside of her screamed, "this cannot happen, he's too young. He cannot ruin his life on my account."  
  
Yet as wrong as it was in her mind, there was still something so right about it. So right about it that it shook her almost physically. She loved him. How that had happened she couldn't fathom, but she did love him. As her life was now she knew she would never be with him, but that didn't seem to matter.  
  
"Maybe this is more punishment," she thought to herself, " it just is not natural for anyone to fall in love with the one person who could kill them."  
  
How had this happened? She shuddered slightly when she realized that if he loved her and he still had to kill her if the time came…he would in essence kill himself. He would break his own heart. Anarkyn's life was a hell and somehow she had managed to pull someone else into it. She would never forgive herself for this.  
  
"We will address this later," she thought then finished out loud," right now I believe we are being followed." 


	9. The Final Stand

Anarkyn and Legolas paused momentarily.  
  
"They are closer," Anarkyn informed, "it was an ambush. They helped the elf escape just so they could ambush his pursuers. Blasted, fool elf, trusting dark powers."  
  
The two elves had been desperately attempting to reach the safety of the Mirkwood borders. All personal feeling and ponderings were put aside in the urgency of self-preservation.  
  
Anarkyn's eye throbbed and burned as she once again started back at almost a jog. She knew Legolas was in great pain, but he kept up perfectly with her rapid pace. He hadn't complained, and it was hardly noticeable that he was badly injured, but Anarkyn could almost physically feel the pain radiating off him.  
  
"He's strong," she thought," stronger than I ever gave him credit for. I have to give him that."  
  
But as the miles dragged on, she could feel some of that strength draining. She had pushed him mercilessly and he had already lost a lot of blood, but he had kept up. He had done his station as prince proud in the last days, but he was wearing down.  
  
The pursuing orcs could actually be seen in the distance now, and Anarkyn's urgency grew as the space between the elves and their pursuers lessened.  
  
They were now within shot distance, and Anarkyn spun occasionally and fired, normally hitting her mark, but her aim was still a bit shaky from the blow to her eye. This still did not lessen the speed of the attackers, but up ahead a clearing loomed. Across it was into Mirkwood territory. Whether that fact would stop the orcs remained to be seen, but it was the only option besides standing and being massacred. Anarkyn could tell that Legolas too was gathering himself for one final attempt at possible safety.  
  
"Run! Now!" Anarkyn ordered. She followed closely behind him across the clearing then turned and watched the orcs behind them. The assailants didn't slow any at the edge of the clearing. Anarkyn sagged a little. Their last escape had just proved in vain. She pulled off her bow and knocked an arrow. She suddenly realized Legolas was still next to her, bow strung and arrow ready. He gave her a calm, wry smile.  
  
"They will kill him," she thought sadly," or worse, take him to Sauron. Let him at least be spared that."  
  
Anarkyn returned the look and suddenly realized something else.  
  
He loved her. It was written very plainly in his eyes at that moment. He was maybe trying to let her know that before they both died. With that look he was expressing everything he didn't have time to say, or maybe he hadn't known until this moment.  
  
"I understand," Anarkyn wanted to say," I think I feel the same way, but I'm no good for you."  
  
But all she could do was slowly smile back.  
  
Both elves drew back their bows and prepared to open fire. Suddenly the air was filled with arrows. Elvish arrows. An entire force of archer elves emerged behind Anarkyn and Legolas. The volley of arrows easily mowed down the pursuing orcs.  
  
Anarkyn was too relieved to question the sudden appearance of the archers. She swung around as Legolas swayed against her. He pulled himself back, but still leaned lightly against Anarkyn. She tried to let him draw off of every bit of her remaining strength as the two stood silently in the chaos that had exploded around them.  
  
"He's so young," Anarkyn thought," He's been unnaturally strong for being so young."  
  
"We're both injured," she said out loud," I suggest someone get us some help and explain." 


	10. Entry and Exit

Legolas leaned back against the padded seat he had been resting in. It had been two days since he and Anarkyn had reached Mirkwood. Legolas had required elvish medicine for his wound, but he was nearly healed fully now. He wondered if Anarkyn had received any treatment for her injuries. He somehow doubted it. She had probably crawled off somewhere to nurse her own wounds. Legolas hadn't seen her since they had gotten back, but he knew she hadn't left Mirkwood yet.  
  
He mulled over the problem of Anarkyn. Maybe she didn't have injuries that could be healed with any medicine no matter how good. Her wounds were internal and couldn't be mended by anyone but herself, and maybe a nudge or two from him.  
  
At that moment, Thranduil entered the room. Legolas stood to meet his father. After Legolas and Anarkyn had returned, Thranduil had explained that he had sent a group of archers to the borderland because of some disturbing scouting reports he had received back. He had been worried about the two trackers, and his fears had proved founded.  
  
Thranduil sat down next to his son.  
  
"I have something to ask you," he said finally.  
  
"Whatever you wish father."  
  
"You love her, do you not," Thranduil said as he watched his son closely, "the Avergaar?"  
  
"Yes, I do," Legolas said plainly," I care about her more than anyone I've ever met before. She's real father. She's honest. She's not normal. I want to hear truth from someone and I believe I will always hear it from her. She does not care about what I am or who I am, she cares about me. She is too honest to pretend otherwise. She never judged me, and I do not care whether anyone approves of her or not. I care about her. I think I love her."  
  
"I was afraid so," Thranduil said with a sigh," you know you cannot be with her. She is a servant of Elrond."  
  
"I know father, but I still love her and I will be with her some day. I am confident of that. One day she will be free, and I will wait until then."  
  
"She is leaving. Today. Now," Thranduil said with a weary smile, "Go to her if you will. You always were a difficult boy. I should have expected this from you."  
  
Legolas's face broke into an almost boyish smile and he turned and left the room.  
  
He barely caught up to Anarkyn. Thranduil had been right. She was leaving immediately. Running away again he assumed. He understood, he just wanted her to know she wasn't alone anymore.  
  
"Some things she can't run away from," Legolas thought," and I intend to be one of them."  
  
Legolas caught her by the arm and spun her around to face him. He was surprised by the pain that was etched on every one of her features.  
  
"I can't," Anarkyn whispered," I am carrying enough pain to last two lifetimes, and I cannot bring that on you as well. I care too much now."  
  
A single tear traced its way over her cheek. Legolas reached up and brushed it away. He left his hand resting on the side of her face.  
  
"The only way you could ever cause me pain would be to shut me out of your life. I love you, and whether you want to admit it or not, you love me too. I know it."  
  
Anarkyn listened in slight amazement, and then let her denial collapse. She closed her eyes and finally swayed into Legolas's chest. He pulled his arms around her and let her simply rest for a moment.  
  
"I don't suppose I can convince you to leave me alone," Anarkyn muttered into him.  
  
"No, you can't," he returned," and I have it on good authority from my father that I am very stubborn."  
  
"I figured as much. You have a death wish of some sort you know. If I myself don't kill you, loving me will."  
  
Legolas contemplated momentarily, " Death wish? Yes, something like that. I think anyone willing to give another their heart has something close to that."  
  
Anarkyn smiled and turned her head a little, "You don't know me very well and I do hope you realize I am not that pleasant."  
  
"Now that I figured out right away, my lady. Not something you hide well, but if I had wanted pleasant, I would have fallen for one of the usual elf maidens. I wanted honest and that is what I have in you. But no, pleasantness was not something bequeathed to you very heavily."  
  
"Then you are the one who has taken leave of your senses and not I. You yourself are quite charming, my prince."  
  
Legolas smiled wickedly and playfully tightened his grip, "Good, because I shall have to make up for you."  
  
Anarkyn laughed. She felt momentarily safe, something she couldn't remember ever feeling. She had finally found someone who not only had gained her love, but also her respect, and she would never part with one without the other. She pulled back and looked up at Legolas. He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a deep, gentle kiss, and it expressed everything neither one could articulate. When their lips parted, Anarkyn leaned back into Legolas's chest. He rested his chin on top of her head and held her.  
  
"I can't be with you now," Anarkyn finally said.  
  
"I'll wait," Legolas returned firmly," No matter how long, I'll wait."  
  
Anarkyn drew herself back and suddenly regained all of her old, icy composure.  
  
"I have to go."  
  
Legolas nodded. He pulled a small, delicately made dagger out of his belt.  
  
"It may help you somehow," he said with a smile, "you always seem to have use for them."  
  
Anarkyn took the knife and slid it into one of the straps. Without a word she slipped a thin silver ring from her finger and placed it on one of Legolas's. She grasped his arm and quoted an old saying.  
  
"May your hand be steady and your eye be true," she said with a smile.  
  
"My eyes will be true only to you, Anarkyn, and my hand only steady when in yours," Legolas softly replied.  
  
Anarkyn paused, then turned and swiftly moved into the shadows of the trees. When she had gained some distance, she turned and looked back. Legolas continued to watch the place where she had disappeared.  
  
"I will return to him," she vowed to herself," I will return to him someday."  
  
~Finis~  
  
yes there is more of anarkyn/legolas, I just don't know if anyone wants to hear it. Let me know if you do. 


End file.
